Thursday, July 20, 2017

Tell Me Why

The boys, Christopher (left) and Nico at an Archery lesson during the summer vacation at Unicoi State Park ,June 12. 2017 (10:51 AM)

June 20, 2017

No parent should give into the demands of a 7 year old,
ever. But my 7 year old has been so demanding about having his questions
answered, as I recently found out on a 13-hour road trip to Northern Georgia,
that I couldn’t avoid his inquisition and ignore answering anything that
crossed his mind.

Christopher pushes me for information
about anything that pops into his mind. I cannot answer all of his questions in
a timely fashion while he rapid fires them at me like hellfire missiles and he
becomes frustrated.

“Tell me, dad. Why aren’t you telling
me? Tell me now, why, why!”

Today he knows he has me captive while
I drove our rented 2017 Nissan Rouge towards the mountains of Georgia leaving
the flat land of Florida behind us. When you live in a beach environment all
your life a little elevation is good for the soul. Just like in the winter when
we chase the cold weather to escape the constant Florida heat. This is the
Sunshine State? Hell no. It’s more like the Summer State, as in, all year round
summertime weather.

One hundred miles into the 700-mile
trip Christopher’s questions began to come at me with little reason other than
wanting to know why we have to drive on asphalt and who created asphalt and who
put the asphalt down so the car can drive on it. And where does asphalt come
from.

He questioned me like a defense
attorney would a witness for the prosecution who was called by the prosecution
to testify against their client. He was relentless like Perry Mason and as
quick on his feet as Judge Judy.

“Dad, why is the sky blue? Tell me
dad.”

“Well..”

“Tell me now, why, dad, why?”

“Because blue prism is scattered
through out the sky by air molecules.”

“Oh, I don’t know what you are saying.
Dad.”

“Dad why are we going 75 miles per
hour?”

“Well, if I wasn’t with the family I
would probably be doing 90.”

“That is not nice dad. Don’t speed.”

“Dad, Why do you have tiny hair?”

“Because I have no hair and grateful
for whatever crops up from my head.”

We are all traveling almost in a
straight line across the state of Florida. The road will slightly turn left and
head straight for the Georgia line. We’ll ride that angle up through Atlanta
and 2 hours further north into White County and the foothills of the mountains
by Chattahoochee National Forest. There is no road less traveled on I-75. You
could get lost traveling off its path. And there isn’t and not much scenery to
take in to cure the boredom from the constant sight of dark green foliage that
raises like a wall 40 feet towards the sky. I guess deep down I welcomed his
questions.

“Tell me why you don’t have your foot
on the gas pedal?”

“Dad, tell me, tell me now, why can’t
dogs talk?”

“Dad…

dad.

Dad.

Tell me…

Tell my now, why, why dad…

Why dad.

Dad.”

Interacting with him made the time go
by quickly and before I knew it we had arrived in Helen, Georgia. The 13 hours
went through our question and answer sessions with brief pauses as he fell
asleep. Which was good because I was allowed to get lost in my own hopes and
dreams and question myself about who I was and how I got here in my life. This
assessment usually occurs after every one of my birthdays. And my birthday was
just the day before we left for this vacation. With Christopher asleep, my
better half a sleep and Nico consumed with his phone I took on the open road by
myself.

I didn’t plan well for this trip. I
wasn’t quite sure what we would do to fill in the 8 days we would be in the
mountains. I thought I would just play it by ear and let the activities fill in
the empty moments as I planned daily activities on the fly. I probably should
have just given my youngest son the phone numbers of the activity centers and
had him call for me.

“Yes, why do you have zip lining and
what is a zip line exactly? It is like my jacket. I zip up my pants. Is that
what we do all day. My daddy couldn’t zip up the luggage. Boy was that a sight
to see.”

“How old are your horses and can they
hold my dad? He is pretty big and I feel bad for the horse.”

“Why do the inner tubes float on top of
the river, tell me, tell me now.”

“Why is it called a four runner when there is a motor and we
drive it rather the run with our legs. I
don’t know these things, tell me why.”

He could have really helped me out with
the planning of this trip!

I will have to delegate my workload to
him more often. I thought I was the only one who had a story to tell you but a
hotel guest who had a room to the west of our room left a review about us on
the hotel website. I thought I would share with you what he thought about us.

“Next to us
(connecting) had very noisy children, after 10:30pm I yelled through the connecting
door and eventually they quieted down. The next morning I complained at the
desk and Adam was very helpful and changed our room. This is really not the
motel's fault- more the crass, uncaring parents (sic). And for God sakes,
someone asked to many questions. Why, why, why… someone get that kid Google.”

Sir, my son,
Christopher, the youngest, would like to respond to this.

The questions are not
going to stop those 2 kids will have a lifetime worth. Hell, I am grateful I
can still call my dad and ask him my own questions.

I will never deny my children the search
for answers in life. All of us search for a meaning to life’s mystery’s I just
wish I could get answers to my questions! Maybe I will rapid-fire questions just as my
son does on our 13 hour car ride home, I will finally get some answers.

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About Me

I lost twin daughters, Sophia and Gabriella, in 2006. Then I lost my wife in 2012. Before she died she gave me, us, 2 beautiful boys, Nico and Christopher. After losing my twin daughters and my wife, I'm blogging new adventures with our two sons.

Join us, my boys and I, on our new adventure's through life. I chose the name Captain Imperfecto because my life isn't perfect and won't be perfect. I will stumble, but I will do my best to give my kids a great life. I will document things true to form. I won't hold back. My words are real. And yes there is and will be cussing. I want you, the reader, to feel our experiences and be a part of the words expressed on the pages that you read. I want you to smell, taste and feel the events and our adventures as they happen. I promise you, you will.

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